


The Loveliest of All Was the Day You Called My Name

by citizenjess (givehimonemore)



Category: Avengers Assemble (Cartoon), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Battleworld (Marvel), Evan Williams Sings!, Gapfillerpalooza, Hand-Waved Magical Processes, Jotunn Loki (Marvel), Loki is Sleeping Beauty, M/M, Resurrection, Season/Series 04, The All-Dark, Thor (Marvel) is a Good Bro, Thor Has Magical Powers Too, Tony Stark's Grocery Bill for Avengers Tower Must Be Insane
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-03
Updated: 2018-09-03
Packaged: 2019-07-06 14:00:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15887469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/givehimonemore/pseuds/citizenjess
Summary: Thor resurrects Loki following his consumption by the All-Dark in the season four finale of the Avengers Assemble cartoon, with a little help from his friends.





	The Loveliest of All Was the Day You Called My Name

**Author's Note:**

  * For [patientalien](https://archiveofourown.org/users/patientalien/gifts), [CalamityCain](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CalamityCain/gifts).



> I am hoping against everything that season five of Assemble throws us a bone and at least shows Thor mourning the loss of his brother following his brief stint as the Sorcerer Supreme/All-Father, to say nothing of pulling a comic canon Thor and going out of his way to resurrect Loki, just 'cause. (We have to watch him be weirdly emotional following Tony Stark's temporary departure at the end of season three, it is only fair, Avengers Assemble writers 'Man of Action'!) Barring that, this is my take on what happens following the events of episode 4x26. Title is lyrics from Evan Williams' "Take Me Away," aka the actor who plays the Chevalier in the show Versailles, aka one half of a gay power couple that is basically a French Revolution-era Thorki AU. (First two seasons are on Netflix! You're welcome!) P.S.: I don't know how Doctor Strange snuck in here so much, either.

It seems, in retrospect, to have happened very quickly. The All-Dark, under Loki’s albeit wavering control, had sought easy targets, beings with their own mystical energies to spare. Thor also had not accounted for how quickly Loki’s magic-induced madness would render him helpless. Freed and emboldened, the All-Dark had almost immediately turned on its master, enveloping him in a colorless void, wisps of what simultaneously looked like smoke and sticky, black tar clinging to his person like a second skin. 

Thor would never forget the sound his brother had made as the All-Dark choked off his voice, which Loki had used last to make an all-too-late pleas for his big brother’s help. In those scant final moments, Loki’s clarity had returned; the panic and abject terror in his wide, blue eyes just before he was stripped of his senses were the product of complete lucidity, and Thor had had to turn away and ignore Loki’s final, feeble gasps as the All-Dark took his life.

Numb, now, it was something of a relief for Thor when someone else took up the reins. “We can contain it, stand back!” Doctor Strange said to him and Jane, and they moved while the self-styled Master of the Mystic Arts made a couple of sophisticated hand motions, eventually drawing out from seemingly nowhere the cylindrical vessel Thor recognized as the container for the All-Dark. Muttering an incantation, Doctor Strange popped open the container, and the mass of dark matter, previously disappeared once it had completed its task of consuming Loki, appeared anew, and began sliding, serpentine-like, toward its latest master-slash-potential victim.

Thor watched all of this in silence. “Is he still … there?” he asked finally, dreading the answer.

Strange looked apprehensive, as though he was wary of being a faulty or disappointing messenger to one like Thor. “I … the longer we wait; maybe there’s still a grace period ... “ 

Thor did not need to be told twice. “Let it out,” he ordered Strange.

Even Jane’s newly masked face appeared concerned, now. “Thor, maybe it’s best not -” she began, but stopped at the unwavering, pained expression marking Thor’s handsome visage. “What do you need?” she asked instead, holding up Mjolnir.

Thor reached out to grab the familiar handle, feeling the hammer surge with power as flesh connected with ancient wood. “It will require both of us, I think,” he said, and took a breath. “Will you help me?”

“Of course.”

Silently, and with visible reluctance, Doctor Strange loosed the All-Dark once more from its casket. Then, like a well-oiled machine, borne largely of instinct and destiny, Thor and Jane together raised Mjolnir to the heavens. The pair floated upwards, surrounded in a thick strobe of flashing lights and crackling energies. Obediently, the All-Dark followed, instinct guiding it towards what might be its next succulent, mystical reward. 

For a long moment, from Strange’s vantage point, the All-Dark appeared to overpower the now fierce orb of light surrounding Thor and Jane. Then, Strange noticed, white-knuckling the Casket’s halves with both hands, the light began to quite literally overtake the darkness.

“Loki! Come forth!” Thor’s bellow echoed across the sky like the element for which he was known. Then, several things happened at once. Most notably, a huge surge of lightning-embossed All-Dark seemed to swell, larger and larger, until it appeared to take distinctive humanoid shape. Next, the clashing energies seemed to break apart, as though the All-Dark tired of being bent to the God of Thunder’s will. The orb of light shook; the newly molded form solidified; and as Doctor Strange left Thor and company to handle their own ‘safe landing, he guided the All-Dark, hopefully for the last time, back into its container, snapping it shut anew with a sigh of relief.

Once the threat of an endless void overtaking all living matter was extinguished, the fallout appeared relatively tame in comparison. Using the Eye of Agamotto, Strange spirited the Casket briefly into a pocket dimension, until it was time to turn it over to Odin, or perhaps somewhere a bit safer from a particular set of prying hands, if he had any say in things.

Speaking of which: “Loki!” Doctor Strange approached cautiously the now trio of fellow magic wielders, one of whom was propped across Thor’s lap as he kneeled on the ground, his brother prone and unconscious. “Is he … alive?” Strange queried. “Is he breathing? He’s a little, erm, blue.”

The Loki that had come back was, in fact, blue-skinned, his flesh marked with ritualistic swirls; to say nothing of the small horns that curled forth from his forehead, among other idiosyncrasies. As he drew closer, Strange’s own heart thudded in relief to see that, in fact, Loki’s chest, however shallowly, rose up and down.

Thor, for his part, did not seem to appear concerned or surprised by his brother’s coloring. “Loki is half-Jotun,” he explained quietly, his eyes never leaving Loki’s still form. “He usually uses a glamour to remain Aesir-looking, but … I suspect he does not currently have the energy to do so.”

“But he’s okay, right?” Jane asked, chewing her lip, a nervous habit of hers. All stared dubiously down at Loki’s pale blue skin, cheeks tinged with the slightest purple as if from recent exertion. If she had any concerns as to the ethical justification behind Loki’s revival, she wisely chose not to voice them.

Thor continued to have eyes only for his brother. “Aye,” he responded quietly, brushing Loki’s forehead gently with the back of his hand. “But he does not yet truly live,” the God of Thunder clarified, and both of his companions nodded in understanding.

*

Loki remained unconscious for several days following his incredible resurrection, of sorts. Doctor Strange, not normally accustomed to making house calls or staying overnight at Avengers Tower, nonetheless made an exception for the sake of monitoring Loki, for the novelty of the situation, if nothing else. Also, in complete honesty, he was rather intimidated by Thor, who had kept a near-constant vigil at Loki’s bedside (in expansive, golden bedchambers that it was clear they had been sharing on Battleworld).

Things had gotten tense one afternoon, a few days in, when Doctor Strange had idly remarked after Loki’s ‘luck,’ regarding the Sorcerer Supreme’s current lack of other patients who might require his attention. “May I remind you,” Thor had said tersely, through gritted teeth, eyes flashing blue fire, “that Loki would not be in this predicament in the first place had you not bequeathed unto him the Eye of Agamotto!”

“Because I was injured!” Strange had contested. He wanted to say more, as well, like about Loki’s known penchant for being drawn to and subsequently abusing powerful magical artifacts well before the need for them to work together to rebuild and activate a new Bifrost had come about. Self-preservation stayed his tongue, however, something about which the God of Thunder appeared relieved. 

“I know that stopping the Beyonder tested all of our respective strengths,” Thor returned a moment later, in a much calmer voice. “I thank you for your own considerable efforts.” Strange nodded, expecting that to be the end of their interaction. Thor, however, seemed to have a lot on his mind.

“The All-Father ....” Thor began, and paused. “Odin is less than pleased at Loki’s return, to say the least. He has, as of yet, forbidden him from returning to Asgard, lest he do so in chains.”

Doctor Strange made what he hoped was a sympathetic sound. “Ouch,” he intoned softly. “I mean, there are ways to restrict his use of magic, to make it harder for him to be a danger to himself or others, right?” he added hesitantly, not wishing to incur Thor’s wrath anew. 

Thor sighed heavily. “Aye,” he agreed, and looked sadly askance at Loki’s still prone, azure-colored form. “It is the last thing I want to do,” Thor confessed; “but if it will offer my brother some freedoms, while still being aware of his transgressions, it is a necessary consideration.” 

“I’m sure it’s not easy for you especially, being Loki’s sole defender.” Strange, too, stared down now at Loki, his face no longer tortured by his body’s brutal interaction with the All-Dark. “Do you think he’s … will his faculties be in order when he finally wakes up?” Strange queries, having trouble reconciling the calmness of Loki’s face currently with the barbed tongue and terrifying magical abilities that had characterized their last meeting.

Thor took some time to answer. “My people … Asgard does not kindly regard madness or even magical prowess,” he said at last. “Humans are not the only beings guilty of fear-induced witch hunts, alas.” Doctor Strange nodded. “This is … not the first time Loki has aroused concerns at home with frequent and flagrant flaunting of his abilities,” Thor added. “I’m afraid his being behind this latest show of force is, as you might say, a nail in his coffin.” He blinked. “Though I am doing everything in my power to keep that from becoming his true fate.”

“I hope he appreciates it.” It was a somewhat risky thing to say, but Thor did not seem to mind. “You’re a really good brother,” Strange added, but Thor shook his head a little this time in response. 

“I could have done more.” The thunder god’s voice came out in a gruff whisper. “I’m afraid … I did not step up enough against those who meant to harm him. Loki’s childhood was wrought with unpleasantness. I could have mitigated it,” Thor sighed. “But I didn’t because … I didn’t pay enough attention … I didn’t know how bad it really got for him sometimes.”

“You can’t live his life for him.” Doctor Strange used the voice he used to adopt for the loved ones of his surgery patients whose prognoses were not favorable. “But now, thanks to you, he has the chance to try again. That’s an incredible gift. He’ll know how much you care when he realizes that it’s your name on the gift tag.”

Thor smiled softly. “Thank you,” he says. “This experience has taught me well not to take my own friends for granted. I am very fortunate. Hopefully one day, Loki will feel that way, too.”

“Stranger things have happened,” Strange joked.

This time, Thor outright laughed. “Indeed,” he agreed, and Doctor Strange smiled as well, hoping against everything that Loki would, in fact, one day appreciate his life as much as Thor did. 

Stranger things had happened, after all.

*

He awoke, at long last, in darkness.

What he remembered of his last moments - ‘alive,’ he thought, which meant that he had also been dead, and then not, and he wasn’t sure which of those ideas was more curious to him - was being in agony. He remembered feeling as though his body and All-Dark addled mind - he had really released the All-Dark, apparently - had acted of their own volition, a truly poisonous pair, while he had simply watched from a trapped vantage point, unable to stop them.

He remembered too, the uniquely horrible feeling of choking on his own tongue, on his very breath. It made sense thus for him to awake screaming, the recognition of which filled him with the relieved knowledge that, in fact, he was no longer in the void. Likewise, he knew that he was alive once more because said screams did not fall upon deaf ears. 

“Loki!” Thor was at once mighty, yet vulnerable, as he crossed the threshold into the room Loki now recognized as that which they had been sharing since the start of their rekindled brotherhood, of sorts. Instinctively, though his memories of his final moments seemed patchy, he knew that this was not Battleworld. They were back on Earth, in Avengers Tower, and Thor looked so pathetically mussed that Loki found himself reaching out a hand towards his face in order to smooth back an errant strand of uncharacteristically limp golden hair, when he suddenly realized …

“Am I … in … my Jo … my Jotu-”

“Ssshh.” Thor hurriedly made a movement behind himself. “Drink some water,” he suggested, and helped to steady Loki into a lazy sitting position by having him lean against his chest, the gesture as seemingly natural as breathing. Perched on the bed now, Thor watched him take a number of small sips from a glass, and rubbed his back in light circles when a couple of them made him cough. “You’re parched, brother.” Thor spoke to him gently, as if trying not to overwhelm him, though Loki could feel how hard his brother’s heart hammered in his chest. “You’ve been … asleep for quite some time.”

Loki managed to swallow a somewhat larger sip this time. “‘Asleep’ in my Jotun form,” he returned. “Who else has seen me? I didn’t even want you to see me like this.” 

“Peace, Loki.” Thor attempted to mollify him. “It was only temporary, until you regained control of your powers. Your … resurrection … left you very weak-”

“Well, nobody asked whether I even wanted to be brought back, did they?” Loki knew he was being unfair, but he had awoken groggy and irritated, and lashing out at Thor was a tried and true method of, at the very least, gaining a modicum of shallow sympathy. 

He heard Thor sigh beside him. “The folly was mine, of course. For what it’s worth,” he added, “I find you look lovely in any form, brother.” 

Loki just snarled. “Certainly, that makes it your call, then.”

Thor blinked tiredly. “I’m sorry,” he said; and then, before Loki could add another barb or even protest, Thor laid his hand against the side of his brother’s face. Light emanated from his touch a moment later, the same blue as that which often crackled from his enchanted hammer. “Strange taught me … a couple of things,” he offered while taking in Loki’s wide-eyed gaze. 

Though the act in and of itself was surprising - since when had Thor learned to control his own elemental magic so well, Loki wondered irritably - it did not particularly shock him that, somehow, when the light show died down and Thor withdrew his hand, his own flesh was once again the creamy, pale, almost pinkish shade that Odin had chosen for him initially all those centuries ago. Likewise, he confirmed with a quick touch to his head, his horns had retreated once more, as well as his birth-given scarification. He was sure, given a mirror, that the red eyes he naturally sported had returned to a more common shade of green, as well.

“There,” Thor said, sounding triumphant, yet exhausted; but when Loki turned his attention back towards his brother - to thank him, to apologize - he only just missed being toppled over onto by several hundred pounds of a now-unconscious thunder god.

*

“Oh, you’re awake.” It was not the friendliest welcome, nor did it emanate from the kindest-looking face, but Loki knew in the presence of any of the Avengers that he should choose his battles carefully. Wisely, then, he merely nodded at the encroaching form of Doctor Strange as he drew closer to Thor’s - their - bed.

“How long was I … asleep?” 

Doctor Strange appeared to do some brief mental math before answering. ”Just under a fortnight,” he finally said. He inclined his head towards Thor, still slumped over across Loki’s lap. His helmet, tellingly, had been removed at one point, and his cape had been slung across both beings as a makeshift blanket. “Want me to, er, move him for you?” Strange asked, already wiggling his fingers a little.

“No.” Strange looked surprised; in truth, Loki was a little shocked himself by the strength of his own protestation. “I can handle him. It is … probably the least I can do.” His eyes were trained on Thor, as though somewhat afraid to meet Doctor Strange’s accusatory gaze. Still, when the figure within his peripheral vision remained there, he chanced a look of his own. 

The understanding expression on Strange’s face surprised him. “He won’t see it that way, I’m sure.” 

Loki dropped his gaze again, smoothing a strand of flaxen hair from Thor’s forehead. “No,” he said again, at once bemused and relieved and guilty. “He never does.”

*

It had been several weeks into their time together on Battleworld before they had truly bothered to talk to one another. It had been strange at first, awkward and stilted, and somewhat ironic, given that they had been sharing a bed for quite some time already, but soon enough, it was like old times, before all the hatred and mistrust between them had driven a centuries’ long wedge firmly into place. Even the morning before they had all combined forces to take on the Beyonder and activate the Bifrost 2.0 had started out plainly enough, with sleeping in and a hearty breakfast before the group had systematically worked to take back its planet from the ethically dubious alien scientist who had trapped them all there to begin with. Their shared captivity had been bittersweet, as such, and Thor, at least, had never been completely comfortable with such ambiguity.

They do not wait so long to communicate with one another this time. Time, after all, is a precious commodity, and they have already wasted so much of it fighting one another on opposite sides of a war that was largely of their own making. 

There are yet several things neither of them have words for - Loki’s readmittance on Asgard as a citizen rather than a prisoner, for instance, is still quite up in the air, in a manner of speaking - and yet, other topics of conversation are much easier to broach than ever before. “I meant it, you know,” Thor says during one such discussion, admiring the feel and sight of Loki, nude yet swaddled in bedding, cool flesh pressed firmly against his own. “Your Jotun form is quite beautiful, brother. You need not be ashamed of that part of you, or any part, for that matter. You need only be Loki, whatever form that happens to take.”

Loki rolls his eyes good-naturedly. “I'm sure your pet mortals would not be quite so magnanimous.”

As if on cue, a chime sound emanates from the small, rectangular Stark Phone lying on Thor's bedside table. ‘Avengers Assemble!!!’ it read, underneath a small photo of Steve Rogers, often the origin of such electronic communications, and the label “Cap.” ‘Living room, one hour. Prepare to have your butts handed to you in Yahtzee. Tony's springing for pizza! This means you too, Loki!’

“PIZZA!!!” Hulk's joyous roar can be heard from clear at the other end of the hallway. 

Loki glances up from peering at the small screen, and then glowers at the broad smile now stretching across his brother’s face. “Don't even say it,” he warns, but irritatingly, Thor's grin gets even wider. 

“Say what?” Thor claps him affectionately on the back, between his shoulder blades; the strength of such an overzealous movement might very well injure a less immortal being, though Loki barely flinches. “Come, brother,” Thor entices. “Keeping Hulk from eating all of the pizza is a group effort.” (“Pineapple on pizza is gross!” Hulk could now be heard yelling, likely a retort aimed at Hawkeye, the tower’s other resident foodie, of sorts.)

Loki sighs. “This is what my life has amounted to,” he bemoans; and then, seeing Thor's still sunny visage beaming at him, he musters up a small smile of his own. “I suppose it could be worse,” he relents, and allows himself to be led by the hand towards the closest thing he has ever had to a group of friends, at which point it is not difficult to maintain the smile at all.


End file.
